


As You Wish

by iofbeholder



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, Illness, M/M, Moon Fairy, Multi, Multi POV, Mystery, Pack Bonding, Poisoning, Possible Character Death, Scenting, Snarky Stiles, Thriller, Transitioning, WIP, fae, fey, incubus, slow build romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iofbeholder/pseuds/iofbeholder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. (After Season 2 Finale. Somewhat AU regarding relationships and past & future events.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Scott POV:**

"Dude, you been hanging around a skunk lately?" Scott had noticed that the past two weeks Stiles had been reeking more than usual for a teenager. He didn't want to think about it, but couldn't help remembering how the week before when he was at work, he had realized that Stiles was starting to smell like the dog he'd been helping treat at the clinic who was dying of cancer. _No, that could never be._ Scott and Stiles had been joined at the hip since forever. Stiles with his inappropriate, sardonic humor was invincible, as far as Scott was concerned. _You keep telling yourself that_ , he thought.

He caught another whiff when the breeze shifted. _Deflect,_ his denial all-consuming. _Make a joke_ , he thought.

"You're never going to get a date if you don't chase that smell away."

"Haha. I don't smell. Maybe it's you. Blaming me won't help you when Allison's around." Stiles smirked.

"Or you when Lydia's around." _God, I'm such an ass._ Scott knew if he didn't face the reality that something might be seriously wrong with his best friend, that he'd go out of his mind worrying or worse Stiles not getting the help he might need. How he would go about aiding Stiles, he didn't know. Many of his friends and fellow wolves didn't know he could smell decay, _death,_ and he hadn't alluded so.

"Why did you just shiver? Is the big bad wolf cold?"

Ignoring Stiles, Scott thought maybe he should ask Allison what he ought to do. Then again, possibly Derek would be the better choice, after all he was the Alpha now. _Do all werewolves possess the ability to smell if something's_ _ **off**_ _?_ Scott decided to quit thinking so hard, get his shit together, and man up to either help his friend, if he is sick or squelch this paranoia once and for all.

* * *

**Stiles POV:**

This was getting ridiculous. Here they are finally getting some time to hangout just the two of them, no Allison, and Scott has barely said two words to him, unless you count telling him he smells. Stiles had been looking forward to "guy time" all week, but Scott seems to be in thought about who knows what. _Probably Allison related._ He hadn't even had time to tell Scott about all the different ways he'd fixated on Lydia this past week.

Stiles noticed his head started throbbing again; this would be, what, 11th time this week? He'd become accustomed to carrying a bottle of aspirin in his backpack. He guessed, with Scott distracted and his head killing him, he should call it quits on "guy time"; maybe look into finding the number for a doctor. Since his mom had died eight years ago from cancer, Stiles' household hadn't really been into medical anything. It was a much avoided topic between him and his father, but the headaches were starting to be too much.

"Hey Scott, you seem to have things on your mind, and I'm not feeling all "super-duper"(yes, he actually used finger quotes), so I think I'm going to head on out."

"What! What's wrong?" Scott asked in a shrill voice, which severely hurt Stiles' growing headache, and made him wince.

"Tone down the volume, dude. What's wrong with _you_? You've barely spoken to me and now you're screeching at me."

Scott ignoring him yet again said, "Yeah, yeah, what's wrong with you?" With werewolf fast reflexes, Scott grabbed Stiles' head and looked deeply into his eyes as if he was searching for something.

"You are seriously freaking me out. Oh, and quit using your super powers; it's not fair for us normal people when we can't escape interrogation. Anyway, I'm fine, or will be fine. It's just a mild headache." Could Scott tell something was wrong with him? Something he couldn't tell himself.

"Whhyyyy, does your wolfy-senses detect something amiss?" Stiles said sarcastically, yet truthfully.

"Uh, gotta go."

"No you don't. Scott, what the hell is going on?"

"You, um...you..." Stiles saw Scott become a blur by taking a step back, do a 180, and shooting off in the opposite direction all at wolf speed. This most definitely did not instill Stiles with "good feelings". Sighing, he opened up his backpack, popped four aspirin and sighed again. With the knowledge of Scott acting more weird than normal, Stiles was now filled with the urgency to go home and call a doctor. Maybe the doctor could also give him something for his werewolf induced stress; _after all, that's most likely what's giving me headaches_.

* * *

**Allison POV:**

"What a strange text."

"Oooo, who's it from, and what's it say?" Lydia enthusiastically asked as she was painting her nails with a color called, "Poppy Love". Sometimes Lydia was just a bit too on the girly side for Allison, but she loved her anyway.

"It's Scott, and I'm not sure I understand what it says."

"Hand it over. I'll decipher it." _The inner workings of Scott, we're probably not in need of a cryptologist_ was quietly mumbled by Lydia as Allison gave over her cell.

While to the outside viewer, Lydia may look like one of those shallow, insipid, I've got nothing going on up under this beautifully coiffed hair kind of girls, but to those who got to know the authentic Lydia, you would know better. She'll almost certainly be someone of great import later in life, if only she would realize that her brain should come before everything else she values most about herself. That was one reason Allison really liked Stiles. He always saw Lydia the way she actually is; not just the shell. Although, he notices that, as well; quite often, in fact. Allison had kept trying to figure a way to get the two together, but hadn't entirely figured out how to get Lydia to regard Stiles in a non loser-like manner. With him continually making an ass out of himself, it had been a difficult task to go about.

"Well, either Scott is on crack or he says he's going to crack. Does he mean 'crack under pressure'? Does Scott even get pressured? Doesn't seem the type." Oh, if Lydia only knew about the daily pressure Scott had to deal with being a werewolf, and having her family hunt werewolves, _and_ dealing with a infinitely irritable Derek. Yes, Scott was sufficiently stressed. Allison wondered which it was now.

"Here, let me text him back to meet me in 30. He most likely needs me for something."

"Oh, _I_ _bet he needs you for something_." Lydia grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Allison laughed, "Not this time...at least, I don't think so."

* * *

**Scott POV:**

As soon as Allison had texted back, Scott felt marginally better. Going to Derek to get information was probably the logical thing he should be doing, but he didn't feel very logical right now. No, emotional was what he was, and the best person to help him figure out how to deal with himself and the Stiles situation was Allison. When Stiles had asked him if he could sense something wrong with him, Scott had freaked. He couldn't tell Stiles anything until he had some semblance of answers himself. And to find out his answers, he would have to deal with Derek. Everyone thought of Derek as broody and lethal, as did Scott, but Scott was also aware of Derek's fondness for Stiles. It was almost imperceptible to see, but Derek was _minutely_ less moody and violent when Stiles was around. At first, Scott had assumed that it was a kind of brotherly affection (if you could call a less aggressive Derek, shoving Stiles into walls, affectionate), but over time he had guessed maybe it was something more.

At present, he hoped this was the case, because perhaps Derek would be more forthcoming than usual.

( **30 Minutes Later** )

After Allison had arrived, Scott told her everything, all of the paranoia and fear that he'd been bottling up for the past week and the conversation with Stiles that had taken place earlier in the day. At first she just looked at him with an astonished expression, then she said something he really hadn't imagined her saying.

"Fuckin' hell." Yep, wasn't expecting that to spill out of her at his confession. Nor did he expect her to start crying.

"Why are you crying? I'm already freaking out and you're not helping." He said as soothingly as possible in his mental state.

"I've been getting attached to the idea that I could _possibly_ get Stiles and Lydia together, but now you spring this on me. I...I never imagined...this...this is wrong. You have to be wrong, Scott."

"Maybe I am, but in order to find out I've got to go talk to Derek, and, yeah, not looking forward to that."

That seemed to sober her tears.

"Scott, get your ass over to Derek's now. I've grown to really care for Stiles, and I know if something were to happen to him you would be devastated, so suck it the hell up and go help **our** friend. If he is sick, we will find him the help he needs, medical or supernatural."

God, he loved this girl.

* * *

He'd gotten as pumped up for confronting Derek as he was going to. Making his way up the drive to Derek's ramshackle, half burned down house, he realized that though he was ready to face Derek, he hadn't come up with a way to coerce Derek into answering all his questions without spilling the beans on the Stile's situation. Scott figured it was all or nothing; he'd go say his peace and they'd be able to move forward to help Stiles.

Climbing the front porch steps, he heard heavy breathing coming from the house; Derek must be working out. _What else did the guy do all day?_   Scott opened the front door without knocking.

"What the hell do you want?" Derek said nonchalantly, not interrupting his push ups.

"I've got some issues that I need to discuss with you."

"Oh, I know you've got issues, but can't you whine them out to Stiles? I'm busy."

"It's Stiles that my issues concern." Derek halted midway through his 32nd push up when Scott said this, then continued on to number 33.

"What's going on now?" He sighed.

"Can all werewolves smell if an animal or person is dying, _because I sortofcan_." Scott mumbled and sped his way through the last of the sentence. Derek immediately looked at Scott with glowing red eyes.

"Why? Can you smell it on Stiles?" Derek growled out.

Scott halted a minute before weakly saying, "Yes."

"For how long?" The Alpha was up on his feet and now nose to nose with Scott.

"Past week." Scott had to turn his head and look away. "I'm guessing that was a yes to my answer about smelling death." Scott felt a terrible weight starting to get increasingly heavier in his chest. Derek seemed to notice the sadness seeping off Scott by backing away slightly and lowering the glow of his eyes.

"We'll fix this; first, we both need to go visit Stiles. See or I need to rather smell out the damage."

"I was hoping it was just my paranoia." Scott said quietly. He then steeled himself, looked at Derek, and said, "Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him.

**Stiles POV:**

Dammit, how hard can it be to get an appointment before three months from now?

Apparently, quite hard when you tell them you want to come in because of a headache. If he were to go to the hospital, he was sure his dad would find out before he'd actually be seen by a doctor, and that would be more of a confrontation than he could handle at the moment.

"Guess I'm sticking with you, Aspirin, my new, dear friend." He said out loud, sensing his own exhaustion from the bizarre, frustrating day.

"Now I'm worried. He's talking to inanimate objects."

Stiles let out a very manly scream, _uh huh, not a girlish yelp at all_ , and turned around seeing that Scott and Derek had come through his bedroom window and were now staring at him with piercing looks.

"Right and **you both** slinking into my room watching me talk to inanimate objects isn't creepy and voyeuristic in any way." Stiles's sarcasm was his modus operandi when he was uncomfortable, or when he was feeling left out (c _ue lacrosse_ ) and ignored (c _ue Lydia_ ), or when...really it was pretty much his stationary attitude. Being sincere hadn't been his forte since his mother had died.

Suddenly, with Stiles not knowing how he got from A to B, he was up against his closet door being taken in as a large lungful by the hulking mass that was Derek Hale. _Awkward._

"Sizing me up as an entrée for dinner tonight? I have some decent BBQ sauce in the fridge if I'm too bland a snack for you." Looking to Scott around Derek's head, Stiles asked, "Mind telling me what the hell's going on, buddy? Customarily, I'm not that opposed to attention, but yeah...this is a little out of my wheelhouse of touchy feely stuff."

Evidently, not concerned enough to answer his question, Scott disregarded him, asking Derek, "Well?"

"Well, fucking WHAT?" Stiles lashed out; he was getting irritated, his head now hurting worse than before.

"Come over here and help me smell it out." **Woah.** What?

"Yeah...if this is some kind of werewolf sexual moon craziness, or whatever, instead of _smelling me out_ , why don't you two go rub one out. Go ahead and remove me from the equation, because as many a housewife has said, 'I've got a headache. No funny business tonight, Sweetie.'" Usually, sex of any kind, Stiles would want in on that action. _Not that the opportunity had ever arisen, besides the world wide wonderful web._ Tonight, or well, anytime recently, Stiles had been too run down to be his standard spunky, go for it, self, anyway; thanks to Allison being Scott's all-consuming focus as of late, Stiles hadn't had to try too much to hide his below par state from his best friend. Although, him feeling ill sure hadn't made his mind slow with lusty images of a certain strawberry blonde. _Focus; stupid ADD._

"Shut up would you, princess." Derek whispered in his neck, then cocked his head back at Scott, lifting his eyebrow in a "why aren't you over here yet?" way. Scott lumbered his way over to them and positioned himself into Stiles unoccupied side of neck, taking a large whiff, whilst Derek did the same to the other side. _Double, superbly Awkward._

Closing his eyes, Stiles stood as still as possible, not daring to breathe hard lest he shiver _,_ letting them do whatever craziness this was, so that they could leave and he could go lay down. He was starting to get light sensitive, so closing his eyes was helping with that at least.

"How are you feeling, Stiles?" Derek asked him while his face is still in Stiles's neck, and his hand, that Stiles had noticed had been on his shoulder, was sliding down his arm slowly to rest on Stiles's wrist.

"Like you two don't know the meaning of personal space."

"It's definitely there, but I detect an almost _absence_ of smell mixing with it. Strange." Derek said to Scott, sounding perplexed. _Yeah, the absence of a smell is strange, not the fact that two dudes are smelling me. Glad we have our priorities straight._ Colossal eye roll _._

"W-what does that mean?" Scott stammered to Derek. Stiles had contesting thoughts of both wanting to know what was going on with his best friend and Derek touching & smelling him and not really being bothered, because he was starting to tire of this ménage à trois of weirdness infringing on his right to suffer in peace.

"You guys almost done having your olfactory way with me? I think I need to lay down." Stiles started attempting to wiggle his way out from between the two werewolves.

Noticing what Stiles wanted, Derek and Scott backed away leaving him to stare at them; seeing an expression of apprehension on their faces and not caring, he turned his back to them, hissing as his head pounded in his left temple, and walked over to his bed, dropping down, liking himself to a boulder.

"Turn off the lights, unless either of you can clarify for me in less than two sentences what the hell just happened. **No, you can't do that?** Well, when I'm not feeling like my brain is going to ooze out my nose from this wicked headache, don't think I'm going to magically forget this strange little pow wow you guys forced upon me tonight." With that Stiles reached over to his night stand, popped three more aspirin, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

Climbing out through the window onto the roof and quickly sidestepping Scott before he'd be promptly tackled with questions he wasn't ready to answer yet, Derek tried to factor in his mind the various emotions he was feeling at the moment, and frankly was extremely glad he had learned to control his facial expressions and body language to not reveal his emotions so well over the years; thus Scott, and thank god Stiles, hadn't witnessed him having such perplexing reactions.

He didn't know what to tackle first. When Scott had come to him today with the news that Stiles might be ill, he hadn't had the time to deal with the reality of the situation; Derek's thinking had been: do now, agonize later, alone. _Ah, identified emotion #1, agony._

Derek had never let on that he had a fondness for Stiles, and if he were more truthful with himself, he would know it was quite a bit more than fondness. During the time he'd known Stiles, since Scott's transformation, Stiles had shown himself to be trustworthy, loyal, _strong_ , and has shown that his aptitude with the supernatural was beyond anything Derek could imagine. Stiles was good through and through, even if he did have one hell of a mouth on him. Nevertheless, as Alpha, Derek could not show his weakness for liking the human; it could put him in even more danger than he ordinarily got into being friends with Scott. Having to do this, go through each day acting either indifferent or to some extent cruel to Stiles, depressed the fuck out of him. Now, illness posing a potential threat to the human, depression was definitely forefront in the running for emotions consuming him now. _Identified emotion #2, depression._

Derek had to stop this. He couldn't evaluate what he was feeling anymore right now, because if he did he might possibly break down, and he couldn't do that in the vicinity of Scott. _Or anyone, especially with werewolf abilities._

So, with Scott, lurking behind him, obviously looking for Derek to give him some reasoning as to what was occurring with Stiles, he steeled himself for the onslaught and leaped off the roof waiting for Scott to do the same.

* * *

**Scott POV:**

Scott could clearly tell Derek was not alright. As well as the Alpha could usually hide it, Scott had noticed Derek touching Stiles's arm while they were trying to comprehend the damage and cause for said damage in Stiles's body. And now Derek seemed as if he were smothering inside himself; he even smelled...like _despair_? Scott still wasn't very good at smelling emotions, but it wasn't too hard at this very moment to make out what was going on internally with Derek, seeing as Scott had been going through the same thing for the past week.

Scott had stayed back from him when leaving Stiles's room. Somehow sensing the Alpha's need to momentarily compartmentalize before being questioned about what was going on with Stiles.

Watching Derek hit the ground, he did the same, and finally allowed himself to ask his questions after Derek seemed to finally acknowledged him.

"So what do you think? Did you pinpoint anything?"

"I think there's a definite smell of decay there, but the cause, I'm not sure about. And that's not sitting well."

"So, you can confirm it's not cancer, right? 'Cause you know his mom died from it several years ago, and I've been worried that..." Scott let the sentence hang in the air.

"No, it's not cancer, but..."

"But?"

"I think we need to call a pack meeting, because something **is** killing him, and I can't smell what's causing the damage. This is making me think that an external agent is what we're looking for, something he's coming in contact what or..." Derek didn't finish his sentence, suddenly looking as though he had thought of something that angered him; his eyes shifting to a glowing red.

"What? What are you thinking?" Derek growled menacingly, though it wasn't directed to be threatening at Scott.

"Could someone want Stiles dead?" Scott blanked. Why would anyone want to hurt, let alone kill, Stiles? Sure, he could be hyper, talkative, and a sarcastic little shit at times, but that's not enough to want him dead. Derek seeing him falter in giving him a response, growled his impatience.

"Like I said, we need the pack together, without Stiles finding out just yet. We'll need to establish a way to keep Stiles accompanied by a pack member at all times. Watch for any person slipping him anything or see if he comes in contact with anything. We need to be taking more precautions anyway. Agreed?"

Scott gradually nodded his consent knowing that it was going to be difficult to keep Stiles out of the loop, especially if they were going to have to pull shifts to watch him. Scott knew stuff like that wouldn't go unnoticed by Stiles for long. They had established one thing for certain, Stiles needed protection.

"I'm telling Allison; she'll want to come to the meeting." Scott wasn't asking permission. Talking with her earlier, it seemed she loved Stiles too, and after the way Derek had acted today, Scott was under the impression Derek might also, granted it wasn't probably the brotherly and sisterly love that himself and Allison shared with Stiles.

Derek nodded his head, his eyes still glowing. "Pack is pack, werewolf and human, alike. Call them, Lydia, as well. I want everyone on this. We're not losing Stiles." Derek gave a final growl and ran off into the woods leaving Scott to his task.

Before departing, Scott glanced up at Stiles's window thinking that Stiles didn't deserve this, didn't deserve having to deal with Scott's problems this past year either. Right now, Scott wished for simpler times; or, at least, Stiles to be safe and happy. _Safe, ha. Like Stiles would ever not get himself and me into trouble._ Still, they were going to fix this; all of them, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Music: "Sirenna (Today We See Colour) (Ou Est Le Swimming Pool Remix)" - Losers, "Sea Shanty - The Dogs, "Old Friend" - Sea Wolf, "All Those I know" - Eric & Magill, "Warnings" - Sohn


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

**Lydia POV:**

Getting a call from Allison saying that she and Scott needed to meet with her in an hour, 1 a.m. no less, was making Lydia slip into her bitch mode. Did they really need to do this right now? What could be so damn important. _Allison on the phone 30 minutes earlier: "Got to get together tonight. It's of the highest priority." Uh, why?_ It seemed like everything was life or death with those two. They had been acting really strange lately; well, actually, quite a few of her friends had been acting weird recently. Even Jackson. Lydia was glad they were on a break since his freak flag had decided to fly high.

Grabbing the paper that had her handwritten directions on it, she snuck out of her house and made her way out of town, heading toward what looked to be an abandoned subway. Several cars were already parked out front, which surprised her. She didn't know this was going to be a group thing, granted, she also didn't know this meeting was going to be held in the middle of creepsville. Finding her way to a set of stairs that seemed to lead straight down into a pit of filth, she was suddenly incensed that no one had told her not to wear nice clothing and $500 heels. _Why in the hell am I doing this?_ _Oh, yeah, because I actually like Allison...and Scott too, I guess._ Sighing, she moved forward and descended until she could hear voices, upset voices, growling voices.

Finally she came upon a room that held three couches filled with people, some friends ( _I guess Jackson counts_ ), and some she knew but didn't associate with, one of those being Derek Hale.

"Where the hell have you been, you're late?" He said to her obviously upset about something that had nothing to do with her, yet taking out his frustration on her being... _oh, let's see, 5 minutes late_.

"No."

"No?" He glared back.

"No, you don't get to speak to me like that. No." Everyone stiffened. Derek look pissed, but that didn't halt her in her resolve to not be treated like an inferior. Done conversing with him, she turned to Allison and Scott, who were sitting together holding hands in what looked to be a reassuring way, and cocked her eyebrow but saying in a calm, yet controlled manner, "What? What is this? Explain...now."

"Um, well, Lydia. We're... We've..." She couldn't seemed to get the words out. Allison looked intensely frustrated, but mostly...sad. Lydia stops and sees the whole room then, who had gone quiet when she entered, all look at her with forms of melancholy written on their faces. She hates it, sensing the dread that's going to follow with her next question, but asks her friend anyway.

"What's wrong. Tell me...please." Wow, she's never heard that particular word leave her mouth, but it seemed the time had finally sprung up to use it, because this room was filled with such sorrow that she felt out of place for not feeling it too or, at least, not being sensitive to the others feeling it.

Instead of Allison answering her, Scott looked her in the eyes and started off saying, "So, there's a lot you don't know about, so I'm going to start off with the basic foundation you'll need so you can be filled in on the rest of what's happening presently."

"Okay." She said slowly trying to focus, ignoring the way Jackson is ignoring her.

He let go of Allison's hands and stood to look at Lydia eye level. "So the thing is that well...we're a pack of werewolves." _Um._ Lydia looked around the room at the faces of the others to she if she could identify the emotions she was looking for, like humor or shock, but no one looked any different than before. Looking back at Scott, she realized that this wasn't a joke, and then it clicked for her the reason for all the strangeness that had been occuring; they had been hiding they were werewolves. With the realization of this, she didn't know what to say, so she walked around Scott to sit by Allison where Scott had previously been.

Yet this clarification, _werewolves are real_ , didn't supply the reason behind everyone's pained expressions.

Scott seemed to see the resolve in her eyes that she believed what he had said and continued. "It's me, Eric, Isaac, Boyd, Jackson, and Derek, who is Alpha. Regardless, of who is or isn't supernatural, we're all pack." He motioned around the room with his hand. "We're including you now, too." _Fucking finally they included me after all the unexplained weirdness._ Although, really she didn't feel angry at their year long exclusion of her. Oddly enough, she didn't feel scared, threatened, or overwhelmed, either; she felt surprisingly whole.

"Why now?" It just occurred to her that there must be a reason to share this with her now, since they hadn't before, and she felt the reason wasn't going to be a good one.

"I know you're not on the best terms with Stiles or any terms really."

"Yeah, and...you're acting the opposite of spastic Stiles right now. Hurry up and spit it the hell out, McCall."

"He's sick." He then looks down at the floor. "Dying, in fact." He says this softly, and as he says this to her, Lydia can hear a smashing of glass to her left. Turning, she sees that Derek has thrown what looked to be an old vase, that's a vase no more, shards covering half the floor.

So, this must be why everyone looks so downtrodden. She'd never gone out of her way to show kindness to Stiles, mostly disregarding him, more like. But over the years, she had observed that he was unlike others; kind, when he wasn't using his humor in his own defense, hyperactive beyond belief, and quite smart, observant. Hell, he'd even noticed that she liked to played the part of dimwit for popularity status, but wasn't actually one. He'd tried so many times over the years to connect with her, yet she always left him in the dust, pretending to take no note of him.

Lydia had never known anyone personally who had died, so she felt the onus of failing to even be civil to someone who apparently is a person of significance to so many people. _Pack._ Now, feeling the guilt of her rejection of him weigh on her, she reluctantly asked, "How?"

"We don't know, that's one of the problems. Both Derek and I have tried smelling what's killing him, but there's no trace in his system, so we're going to have to devise a way to find out. We figure it's one of two possibilities, either he's doing harm to him self unknowingly, because Stiles isn't going to hurt himself on purpose, or someone's trying to kill him. Why I couldn't tell you, but there it is, laid out for you."

"Um, right." Derek huffed in exasperation at her non-verbose answers, but what the hell was she supposed to say or do when finding out such things as these, werewolves and Stiles's potential demise.

Derek decided to join the conversation by adding, "Time to wrap up the explanation portion of our day and move on to the planning phase."

Lydia is many things, but she had never been one to be shy, therefore why would she be shy in a room full of werewolves _and an ex-boyfriend_ , so she stood up and turned to face those, human and werewolf alike, in the room.

"Right, so we need to start with the easiest thing first, we need to follow Stiles around, see if he touches or comes in contact with anything harmful, but also by being with him at all times, if someone is out to get him, he will be more secure than if he were alone." Seeing everyone turn to Derek for direction in how to act on Lydia taking control irked her, so she decided to slap her hands together while whistling loudly to get their attention back to her and more importantly, the strategizing they were supposed to be doing.

Scott appeared to wake at the sound saying, "We were thinking the same...about scheduling time between the pack to keep watch of him."

"Excellent." She felt good that for once, she was helping instead of hindering. "Let's do that first. We've got the whole night for the rest." Scott nods at her, and gives a slight smile. She returns it.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

After spending three hours in the overcrowded room, they had ultimately hashed out a temporary safeguard for Stiles. Even though dealing with Lydia had been agitating, she took the control he relinquished and made the pack focus in a way he hadn't known could happen. She was an Alpha in her own right, though she was only human. Still, he was glad he'd been right to include her in the pack, even if he didn't show it.

Thinking back earlier, he'd had quite a bit of trouble with his betas when they'd first arrived for the pack meeting.

*Flashback - 2 Hours Earlier*

"So, you have probably been sensing my anxiety since you came in, and we'll get to that momentarily. First thing's first. We're going to be telling Lydia Martin about us being werewolves tonight and letting her into the pack."

"The hell we are." Erica spit out, just as Boyd rumbled his infuriation; Isaac just looked aghast. Derek growled at them quickly putting them in their place.

"This isn't a questioning type situation; as Alpha, I'm telling you you're going to have another pack member after tonight." _That is if we can convince her werewolves are real, we aren't going to eat her, and asking if she'll work with us by being becoming pack._

After a beat, Erica calmed, and Isaac and Boyd returned their attention to Derek. He hoped that once they were told about Stiles, they wouldn't fight against having more support. This thought encouraged him to tell them the cause to which bringing more people in to the pack was necessary.

After doing so, the room felt foreboding, silent. He could only imagine the thoughts they had upon being told that their friend and pack mate was ill. Hell, he knew his feelings on the matter.

Derek heard a whimpering sound and looked up to see Isaac and Boyd holding Erica's hands; it was quite an unusual scene to witness; since Erica's turning she had encompassed herself with an imaginary shield, not showing any emotion that could be detrimental to her new hard ass persona. All betas were like that at first, but unlike Isaac and Boyd, she had yet to let her humanity show again. Derek took it as her nasty treatment by others for being epileptic for years as the reason for her hardness. Yet, here she was silently asking and getting support from her pack all because of Stiles. Apparently, Stiles wasn't just particularly important to Scott and himself.

After being contemplative for a moment, Erica said, "He's going to be alright. We will make him be alright." She gave the impression of directing this statement to him, and deep down, it made him feel the bit better for it.

*End Flashback*

For all the pack needed Stiles for, he now was in need of the pack. Alone wasn't going to be a word they would use any longer. Starting now, Stiles wouldn't be left alone even if he wanted to be.

Derek wanted Stiles to be surrounded by the pack for another reason: scent, more aptly, pack scent. If this was something supernatural in origin happening to Stiles, him being scented by his pack couldn't hurt to deter harmful forces anyway.

With this in mind, and everyone informed of their parts to play, Derek made a quick exit for his car to patrol and watch over Stiles for the rest of the night, or what little of it there was left, feeling slightly less troubled. _Slightly._

* * *

**POV** **_Unknown:_**

Watching in a tree as half the pack left, he felt his hatred rise. _Don't worry, they don't know it's me._ He had made sure to stay far enough away to not be smelt by the wolves. As long as he isn't found out too soon, his plan will surely succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Music: "Wait" - M83, "Youth" - Daughter, "Morning Life" - Feeder, "Set It On Fire" - Jeremy Enigk, "How To Disappear Completely" - Radiohead, "I'm On Fire" - Stateless


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him.

**Stiles POV:**

_I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'll be damn sure to find out. Wrath Stiles is out of the can when I get my hands on Derek._

All week, Stiles hadn't even been able to take a piss without someone breathing down his neck. _Sometimes_ _ **physically**_ _breathing down my neck._ It was getting damn annoying, and not one of his so-called friends and pack members would tell me why they were acting this way.

One of the only up sides had been that Lydia wasn't treating him like a non-human anymore, so that was a plus. Although, the reasoning why she was being congenial to him, and everyone else being so vigilant at being a constant at his side, was eluding him.

Had he secretly won the lottery, and somehow been knocked unconscious with excitement and mentally blocked winning, so everyone was trying to capitalize on that fact? Had he slipped into a parallel dimension where his friends, plus extended pack members, dared to grace him with their presence without the preamble of them wanting him to do research, or let's say, save their asses from impending doom of some sort; a world where he, Stiles Stilinsky, was on one, Lydia Martin's radar. _Psshhh, Nah._ Could he be unknowingly possessed, and that's why everyone keeps giving him strange, dismayed looks?

Although, that last theory wouldn't account for all the random touching. It suggested that the pack had come down with the 'not knowing Stiles's personal boundary's' fetish that Scott and Derek had been inflicted with a day earlier that everyone else. Guess they never learned that if you're touching in a place you're supposed to ask to touch first, you probably shouldn't be touching there. _Or petting there. Shudder._

Even if those speculations were not the case, something extremely fishy **was** going on, and as head analyst for all things that go bump in the night for the group, he would uncover what was happening sooner or later.

This had all been occurring the whole week without a single word from Scott or Derek. They had been expertly avoiding him, thus evading answering Stiles’s questions about the night of "Stiles Smell Extravaganza." With it being Thursday and pack meetings being on Friday evening, they weren't going to be able to hold out on him for very much longer.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

Jealousy. How the hell did this happen? Oh, yeah, he caused this to happen. It was his stupid idea to have everyone in the pack surround Stiles all week….with one little exception, himself (Scott, too). Derek has had to avoid the human the whole week, and it has been excruciating not being able to be around him, scent him, and get his own dose of pure Stiles aroma. Sure, he had lurked outside his bedroom, taking the night watch so that everyone could get some sleep; also, so he could fixate without anyone catching him doing so. Although, he figured the pack was beginning to catch on to his Stiles obsession.

He’ll admit, sometimes he liberated himself from being relegated outside, behind the window of the human’s room, to being in the human’s bedroom watching Stiles in his fitful rest. He’d murmur pitiful moans, as if even in sleep he was in pain. And when hearing him do this, Derek became distressed and impatient.

They hadn’t gotten much of anywhere on the front of how he was getting ill or who would do such a thing to, frankly, an innocent Stiles. ‘Cause that’s what he really was…innocent.

It killed Derek to think that he could be the cause for Stiles getting sick. _What if someone’s doing this to him for helping the pack, or for merely hanging around werewolves?_ This is what would run through his head every night as he stood as protector. He really didn’t want to be the cause for another person he cared for to be hurt or killed.

Scott had been the only other person to feel this way, and they were probably in the same way of thought because they were the only pack members that couldn’t be near Stiles. Over the past couple of days, Scott had been around Derek, just for the sake of being around him. The lack of Stiles had had one positive outcome. In their mutual sadness and loneliness, it solidified their relationship as people who cared for Stiles. Both of them wanting to be there for Stiles, but in order to safeguard him couldn’t, not until they had some kind of lead. Leaning on each other was the best they could do for now.

* * *

**Erica POV:**

"Are you going to be rubbing on me in the cafeteria, too, because I just sent Isaac packing after pulling that shit in such a public place. I mean, it’s not like I don’t get picked on enough by the assholes in this place for being a smart ass." That’s what he hisses at her as she walks up to Stiles at their usual table. Erica’s seen the evolving frustration in Stiles as the pack’s gotten even less subtle with their scenting when they had noticed him getting weaker and stumbling more often as the week passed. She wished they could just tell him their reasoning for smothering him, but she doesn’t think that will help much with him randomly going into screaming fits with as much coddling as they do now.

Being with Stiles was no longer a chore, well, it is because Erica’s having to keep watch of him, but now that he’s sick, she realizes she’d been taking him for granted. He’s just a mere human, yes; he’s also the glue to their pack. He does the research necessary to keep the pack safe, he’s repeatedly saved not only her life, but the life of their Alpha, and last but not least, he’s always treated them, the pack, as family. Sure, the werewolves would argue and fight with him, but anytime the pack ever needed him, he was always there to help bail them out of trouble.

She had been so angry with him and resented him for so long, because he had never seen her in the same light she had seen him all these years.

Erica realized now, that he hadn’t ignored her affections for all those years because of her epilepsy, but because he didn’t know she had feelings for him; although, those feelings had turned from ones of only attraction to ones of attraction, affection, and familial affection, which made her feel very uncertain.

After the pack meeting, and the outing of Stiles’s illness, Erica began to see her Alpha’s tendency to be affected by the human; or to put it simply, show concern toward and indulge Stiles, when the Alpha rarely showed anything but anger, loathing (both to others and in himself), and resentment. She had begun to think he was broken inside after the death of his family, but Stiles clearly made him less insufferable.

"No, Stiles, I’m not going to smother you with werewolf cuddles, at least not in a place that’s quite this public. I do have an image to uphold now that I’m a smokin’ hot werewolf and cuddling would defeat that." She winked at him.

He seemed satisfied when she sat down without getting too close into his personal space. She looked down at his lunch plate. "Why did you order so much food?"

"This is how much I generally eat. I guess, I’m just not that hungry. Damn headaches must be making me loose my appetite too. Thinking about it, I can’t really remember the last time I did eat. Oh well." If she wasn’t worried enough, now they had a new symptom to add to his debilitating state. Derek was not going to be delighted when he hears of this current development.

"Want to go outside and get some air? Maybe you’ll feel better." He looked at her incredulously. "Or we can sit here and sulk." She wished he didn’t look so pained.

"You haven’t even gotten to your food yet."

"It’s alright. This would have been my fourth meal already today. Werewolf metabolism remember." It was a lie, but the lunches served at school were lackluster, so she didn’t care either way.

"Fine, as long as you mind yourself and keep an arm’s length away you can come." He smirked and she smirked right back at him.

"Here, I’ll get your tray for you, so you can walk behind me and check out my fine ass in my leather mini skirt. Maybe that will cheer you up." She hoped that comment would make him not question why she didn’t want him to burden himself with anything more physical than what he already dealt with, because he appeared like he was going to topple over with how weak and fatigued he looked. She picked up both their uneaten lunches, tossing them in the trash as they made their way out of the cafeteria.

They hadn’t said anything to one another in the ten minutes they had been outside, which was strange being around Stiles and having him be silent. Loquacious was Stiles’s middle name. It was definitely disturbing, and a testament to how much he’d deteriorated within just the last few days.

As they continued walking at a greater distance away from the school and its occupants, Erica started feeling uneven. She looked down at her hand and it was shaking slightly. She ceased walking immediately; Stiles stopping too once he noticed she wasn’t still at his side. As he turned to face her, presumably to say something sarcastic, she felt her legs collapse under her, her whole body starting to spasm. _No, this can’t be happening. This can’t happen anymore. The bite cured me. **I’m cured, damn it.**_

Stiles dropped down to hold her from hitting herself too hard on the rough ground, and then she heard him yelling at someone on his phone to come help.

She must have gone unconscious for a minute because Stiles was now off the phone, whispering words of comfort to her as he endeavored to keep her body as stationary as one could possibly get a person who was having an epileptic fit.

She looked up into his exquisite brown eyes, seeing them filled with panic. That was the final thing she remembered before blacking out completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Music: "I Can't Find You" – SolarSolar, "All I Need" - Radiohead, "The lightning Strike: What If This Storm Ends?" - Snow Patrol, "Swim Until You Can't See Land (Frightened Rabbit cover) - Benjamin Francis Leftwich, "My Body Is A Cage" - Arcade Fire


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him.

**Erica POV:**

She gradually started to wake to the noises of impassioned shouting outside the room she was in.

"He’s not wanting to leave; he is adamant that until he gets answers, he’s not ‘moving his lily white ass.’ I think it’s time we give him what he wants." The person Scott asked this to huffed loudly.

"Oh, I know what he wants, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to get it. Tell him thanks for staying with her, but he needs to go home until we figure this out. Until I can figure out a way to tell him what’s going. You go with him Scott; he still needs protecting, but keep your trap shut if you can. Once we have grilled her on what happened today, maybe we will have some of our answers as to what’s been happening to Stiles." She heard a grievous sigh. "Then we’ll tell him the truth, and hopefully have some way of fixing all this." _Ah, how I love a good old Scott and Derek show of dominance. Some things never change._

With their conversation over, Derek makes an appearance in the room…bringing with him quite a few people.

"You ready to grill me then?" Erica meant for that to come out as teasing and sexy; instead it came out scratchy on account of her voice being hoarse. _How long have I been out?_

She had only been able to hear the tail end of their conversation, so when nearly the whole pack came into the room, she was astonished. She knew Derek and Scott were at least here, but she didn’t think most the pack would congregate on her behalf. It was an intensely positive feeling to know that she had people who cared, though she tried her best to hide it.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Boyd asked, as he knelt down beside her, taking her left hand in his, slowly rubbing his thumb in circles over her knuckles. Isaac gently placed his hand on her ankle comfortingly.

"Better now." Erica looked to her Alpha, and asked, "Is Stiles alright? He grabbed me as I fell; I didn’t hurt him did I?"

"No, he is fine. He’s stronger than he appears sometimes." She smiled at that comment. Though, a sarcastic twat at times, Stiles, even in his weakened condition, was a potent force. Those who underestimated him tended to suffer the consequences.

"So, you remember what happened?" Isaac asked, and she nodded her head whilst never looking away from Derek.

"How could I—" Erica had to stop, take a breath, and try again. "I thought the bite cured my epilepsy."

"It did. It must be what you came in contact with that triggered the episode. Walk us through what you were doing prior."

"Well, I had convinced Stiles to go for a walk with me, because, frankly, while we were at lunch he looked so pale and lethargic that I was beginning to worry. Or worry more. We had gotten fairly far away from the school. When I was trying to figure out how to coax him into talking with me, which was fucking scary enough, I noticed my hands were shaking, and that’s when I fell to the ground into the epileptic episode."

"You didn’t touch anything outside or see anyone around?" Boyd squeezed the hand of hers he was holding when he asked.

"No, and I would have smelled if someone was there. It was just the two of us."

Derek then stepped forward to question.

"Okay then. We’ve established it wasn’t something outside. What about before? You said you were at lunch with Stiles. Do you think someone could have slipped you something, maybe something that was meant for Stiles? That maybe what merely induced you to have an epileptic fit, has been causing the damage to Stiles."

_Slipped me something? No. I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, either his or mine, so that couldn’t be it. Although, I did…_

"His tray. I grabbed it for him as we left. That was the only thing I touched, and would be the only thing that no one else but Stiles would handle. That’s how it’s being done. It’s someone that has access to the school."

The energy in the room seemed to electrify at this revelation. They finally had a lead, and someone was going to pay.

* * *

**Scott POV:**

After pretty much forcing an erratic, flailing Stiles to leave the pack den, he’d been unsettlingly quiet. Especially since Scott had been secluding himself from Stiles for the week, and he knew his best friend would have been teeming with questions once he had his chance to ask them, yet here he sat, speechless with his body turned away from Scott, looking out the window. Stiles was…well, Stiles had never been this subdued in all the time since they met.

The ping from his phone informing him of a new text engulfed the silence in the car. Scott seized it out of his pocket, pulling it near the wheel to keep driving while reading it.

"You shouldn’t do that, asshat. If you crash, some of us won’t be able to reform our mangled bodies."

"Oh, it finally speaks."

Stiles snapped his head around to scoff and look incredulous at his best friend. "Yeah, ‘cause _I’m_ the one that’s been hiding from his best friend all week, so _I_ don’t have to tell him what the hell is going on."

After seeing the text from Derek about what Erica had exposed, Scott was livid. As soon as he was off ‘Watch Stiles Detail’, he was going to find the bastard who was hurting his friend. Freddy Krueger would look tame compared to what Scott had in mind to do with his claws.

"True, and maybe we can remedy that soon, just…not yet."

"Whatever. Fuck all this bullshit. I’m just tired." He said, leaning his head against the glass looking back outside.

He did look tired. Scott wondered if his outburst back at the den had used up all of Stiles’s limited energy, a concept that until recently was unfathomable when referring to Stiles.

Scott pulled in to the driveway to Stiles’s house, and before he could even fully park the jeep, Stiles had the door open, and while trying to make it to the front door slipped and fell to the ground.

When Scott attempted to help his friend, he encountered one hell of a resistance.

"I’m not an invalid, Scott. I’m just a little more clumsy than usual, because of the headaches."

"Okay, okay. Want me to get you some more aspirin when we get inside?"

As Stiles picked himself up off the ground he replied, "Damn aspirin doesn’t work anymore. Just have to deal."

They made their way inside and up the stairs. Before they were about to enter Stiles’s room, Scott had a thought come into his head that it was strange that the bedroom door was closed, as Stiles was always so frazzled that he almost always left his door ajar.

It’s then that Stiles touches the door knob and straightaway falls to the floor hyperventilating. Scott falls with him to his knees before Stiles hits his head on the hard wood floors.

Cradling Stiles’s head in his arms, he sees Stiles’s eyes blown wide, his skin covering itself in a sheen of sweat, and ultimately his body starts to convulse so hard Scott can barely keep hold. He most definitely will leave bruises trying to.

Scott looks up and sees a gooey substance on the handle and a spike of fear runs up his spine and tears cascade down his face as he hears Stiles start to choke on his own blood.

Whilst trying to still hold onto Stiles, Scott manages to retrieve his phone hitting redial, knowing that Derek was his last call.

* * *

**Derek POV:**

Even spending several hours scouring through trash hadn’t discouraged Derek’s determination, because it had paid off. He’d finally been able to scent out Stiles’s awful smelling lunch, being careful not to touch the styrofoam tray bare-handed. While the lunch itself smelled of feet, the tray had only the minute traces of where Stiles and Erica had handled it, nothing else. Yet, focusing in with his werewolf sight, Derek was able to see the traces of residue left behind from what he guessed was the toxin used.

Derek hadn’t said anything, but when he had heard Erica’s recount of how she had come to have an epileptic episode, he knew that whatever poison that was meant for Stiles wasn’t just regular, but of supernatural origins. Otherwise, unlike when she’d come in contact with the Kanima’s venom, she would not have had any ill effects.

This was a torturous discovery.

This meant that whoever had the vendetta against Stiles was possibly of the non-human persuasion or, at least, had knowledge of the supernatural.

His phone began to ring, obnoxiously.

"Hold on, hold on." He said to the inanimate object. He climbed out of the garbage before hitting the answer call button.

Once he did, he sincerely wished he hadn’t, as he could heard gurgling and crying, and knew his worst fear was coming to light…he knew Stiles was dying.

* * *

 

_**Unknown POV:** _

_(10 minutes before Scott and Stiles return to Stiles’s house)_

_That werewolf bitch just had to touch Stiles’s tray. They were surely going to figure it out now, although, they are too dumb a race of creatures to understand the whole truth yet._

_I had sequentially been upping the quantity to Stiles during the past week, and it seemed to be working. He was almost there, almost ready. Maybe one or two more dosages, but that bitch had to fuck it up._

_I have to make my final move quickly._

_I make my way through his house, touching his things, lingering on the softness of his pillow under my fingertips. ‘Don’t worry, Stiles,’ I thought to myself, ‘It’ll be SO much better soon.’_

_Hearing Stiles’s jeep approach the house, I laid out my last and most concentrated dose, hoping it will do the trick and left silently to watch from the woods in the backyard._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Music: "The Dragster-Wave" - Ghinzu, "The Wizard" - Bat For Lashes, "Blue Light (Engineers Anti-Gravity Mix)" - Bloc Party, "Breathe" - The Cinematic Orchestra


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, the long, very long, awaited chapter 6. On with the show. I do not own Teen Wolf, but I sure wish I had my own Stiles. I don’t have a beta, so sorry if there’s any mistakes.

**Derek POV:**

_He’ll be all right. I’ll get there and make everything right. He’ll be fine._

After numbly hanging up the phone, Derek had dashed across town, at last reaching Stiles’ house. Sweeping his way through the lower level of the house to make his way up the stairs he was immediately hit with the pungent smell of blood, Scott, and desperation…along with traces of an intruder that he could tell no longer lingered within the house.

Upon reaching the top of the stairway he looked at them in front of Stiles’ door at the end of the hallway. The first thing he noticed was Stiles’ immobility, stillness never akin to the human, and it chilled his heart. Scott held him, arms closed tightly around his friend, hand laid on his pale cheek. The closer Derek came to them, the less he could convince himself that he’d been wrong…that Stiles could be saved. _No._

He fell to his knees beside Scott in the encompassing pool of blood that had spilt from Stiles’ mouth, not able to look away from…him.

That’s when he felt it, when the façade of Alpha, of werewolf, of _sourwolf_ Derek had always held in place, that he let others perceive of him, fractured.

He can’t remember back to a time when he cried, let alone the harsh, breathless gasps and shutters that he was producing now. Scott hadn’t said anything, and still did not speak as Derek rested his hand on Stiles’ unoccupied cheek.

There was no warmth beneath his palm, and Derek was afraid…afraid that if he focused too hard, he would come to the realization that the expected hummingbird paced heartbeat that accompanied Stiles was no longer being produced, and the scent accustomed with the beautiful boy had muted.

He hadn’t realized until he felt the pressure tighten slightly that Scott was holding his hand.

Looking up he saw what he felt reflected in Scott’s face, the unbearable anguish. Derek’s wolf’s suffering finally broke through, leading Derek into an absconding pained whimper.

Because since entering the house, there had been nothing but silence, not Derek nor Scott (or Stiles) uttering a single note, other than letting out their grief, was the probable reason as to why the barbaric laugh they then heard appeared to be so shrill and unforgiving.

* * *

_**Unknown POV:** _

_I just couldn’t help myself, call it giddiness, but I couldn’t stop the laughter from bursting out of me at seeing those things, beasts, in pain._

_Of course, that had alerted them of my presence, and sent them chasing after me._

_Luck for me, I’m fast. However, I didn’t expect them to be so coordinated with each other, and they’re starting to pin me in._

_Well, I guess, now is as good a time as any to reveal myself to the mongrels._

_Won’t matter anyway._

_There’s nothing they can do now._

* * *

 

**Derek POV:**

Overwhelming rage surged through Derek as he smelled the scent of the intruder that had _killed_ Stiles…and he…he… the **monster** was cackling maniacally at what he had done.

Derek’s wolf had him up and out the window of Stiles’ room before he even thought to chase after the man, with Scott following quickly after.

The man they chased moved with a fluidity that was definitely not human, yet he had no discernable scent. _He must be masking it somehow._ Though he was fast, Derek and Scott was keeping pace.

Since Stiles had gotten sick, the pack had tightened up their routines, training and synching themselves to be a better pack, to be better for Stiles, to be ready for his attacker.

Apparently, it fucking worked. Even being just himself and Scott, they had led their ‘prey’ right where they wanted him, so they could capture, interrogate, and if Derek had anything to say about it, torture the bastard slowly until he died one hell of an agonizing death.

Closing in, Scott read Derek’s cues and tackled the hooded figure from the bottom, just as Derek launched his body at the man’s top half. The three rolled several 360s, until their bodies hitting a tree stopped them.

Just to make sure their ‘prey’ wouldn’t go anywhere, Derek, not so discretely bent the man’s leg ‘til he heard the snapping noise telling him it was broken. _Good._

He and Scott got to their feet. Standing over the hooded figure, Derek gave Scott the go ahead to remove the hood cloaking the person’s identity.

Scott gasped loudly. "Coach?!"

Derek’s anger flared. Scott noticed quickly enough to hold him back from attacking the Coach.

"Hold off." Scott’s eyes shone their golden light, trying to reason with his Alpha, whose eyes were ablaze, but calmed slightly in response to Scott’s demeanor. Derek took a calming breath and nodded to Scott, so he could release him.

Turning back to the Coach, Derek said, more like growled, the first thing to pop into his mind, "Why?"

The coach seeming unaffected by his predicament said, "Why? Why not? You people really are so half-witted. So undeserving of one second of mine or Stiles’ time." Derek roared so loudly the surrounding leaves on the trees shook.

"Oh my, did I hit a nerve, All Mighty Alpha?" The Coach chuckled to himself. "I did it because I’ve watched Stiles for a very long time, waiting. Always waiting, but he was finally ready for what I wanted."

Scott made an inhuman noise. "Wanted?"

"Mmm. _Mine._ " The Coach hummed, nodded, and smirked when he saw Derek’s eyes flame red yet again.

"But you always treated Stiles like shit. If you wanted him, why go through all this trouble? Why hurt him this way?"

"Derek knows, don’t you Derek?" He stared right at Derek while still talking to Scott. "You always hurt the ones you love, but in my case, I needed Stiles to physically hurt. The pain he has withstood has shown how strong he is. How strong he’s going to be."

Derek startled, his pulse pounding in his ears. "Going to be?"

The Coach chuckled dementedly, "You idiots really believe I killed him. Jesus. How are you two still alive? OH, that’s right, Stiles was there to save your sorry asses. I can’t believe how you could never see the potential lying there beneath the skin." He made a hissing noise through his teeth as he said skin.

"He is fey, of which clan or persuasion, I don’t even know yet. We’ll have to wait to find out when he wakes to his new life."

_**Stiles’ body began to twitch.** _

"He’s his mother’s son."

_**The twitching turned to battering spasms.** _

"Oh, that’s right, I forgot you don’t know. His mother didn’t die of cancer."

_**Spasms turning so violent, it pounded his body against the floor, splattering the cooling pool of his blood on the walls.** _

"She wasn’t strong enough to handle the full transition. I thought that since her and Stiles’ bloodline is of a nature that is beyond most even within the supernatural community, that she would be able to handle the strongest doses and turn quickly. I guess, I overestimated her strength; while Stiles’ has been able to newly handle the venom way past what I ever gave his mother at her end."

_**Stiles’ body stilled, body battered and bruised from the thrashing. Minutely, then the bruises started to fade, the circles under his eyes going away as well. His pallor returning to its normal state, as finally, he gasped a starting breath.** _

The Coach broke in to a smile of such beautification it rivaled an angel’s, as if he were looking into the gates of heaven before turning back, to finalize his tirade. "Yes, Stiles is the one, the strongest, and he will NOT BE YOURS." As he screamed, his body began to transform into thousands of insects, only to sting Derek and Scott as the swarm escaped into the ether of the night sky.

* * *

 

**Stiles POV:**

He awakes alone, enveloped in a pool of blood, feeling greater than he can ever remember.

"What the HELL?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Playlist Music: “Where Do You Go” – Lhasa de Sela, “This Won’t End Quietly” – We The Committee, “The Enemy” – Mumford and Sons


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Scott begin to understand what's been happening from an unlikely source.
> 
> (When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a colossal chapter for me to write. Many revelations. I do not own Teen Wolf. I do not have a beta for any of my stories, so sorry if there are any mistakes.

**Derek POV:**

They had healed from the insect stings during their hasty trek back to Stiles’ house. Derek had been anxious, and quite frankly, thrown for a loss when the Coach he revealed that Stiles might still be alive. He was also secretly thrilled that maybe this time, with Stiles no longer being ill, he would be able to make his move on him. Stiles’ pseudo death made Derek quite aware that it was way past time for him to do so. He’d felt the attraction, and new it wasn’t only one sided.

With him and Scott being entirely focused on reaching Stiles, they had just kept quiet in anticipation as they reached their destination.

Thinking they were going to find Stiles revived, they were instead dismayed to find him still on the floor in the pool of his blood; although, he did appear different. The weariness that had been etched into his skin, the tautness from his body breaking down, and the bruise-like circles from under his eyes had all vanished. He looked perfectly healthy, in spite of his lack of movement. Stiles didn’t look dead, but as if in a restful sleep. Derek could tell he was breathing once more, which meant he was **alive** , and that gave him an iota of relief.

Alive and knocked out was surely better than the way Derek had seen him last.

Leaning down over Stiles’ body, Derek ran his fingertips lightly down Stiles’ cheek. He feels warm to the touch. Yet, his stillness still has Derek feeling uneasy.

"Why aren’t you awake sleeping beauty?" Derek somberly asked, not even thinking about being embarrassed at Scott hearing him say those words.

"We can’t just leave him lying there. Derek, what are we going to do?"

Derek didn’t really know what to do. Probably moving Stiles to another location and trying to hide the mess of today would be a start. However, that was a temporary solution. What Derek needed most right now would be for Stiles to open his eyes and give him some smart-ass remark that would make him melt inside and scowl outwardly.

Scott’s impromptu panicking breaths and rushed heartbeat distracted Derek enough to take him back to the present.

"How are we going to hide this from the Sheriff. Oh God, Derek, what are we going to tell his dad?"

_Could this day turn into any more of a fiasco?_ The squeaking sound of someone on the stairs informed him that that very same person was now looking at the scene of mayhem them were in. _Yes, apparently, it can._

"If this has anything to do with why my son is passed out on the floor, then explain away; however, if this is about werewolf business, then don’t bother." Stiles’ dad said from the top of the stairs. He then forced himself out of his stupor and made he way frantically to look his son over from head to toe.

"Mr. Stilinski…I…um…it’s not what it looks like? Wait, did you say werewolves?" _Wow, Scott’s as fast on the uptake as ever._

The Sheriff ignored Scott to instead quirk his eyebrow like Derek usually does at him. "Derek, mind filling me in on my son? Did **they** come after him?"

The Sheriff then whispered lowly, petting Stiles’ hair lovingly, "I can tell his essence still lingers."

_Holy shit._

"What are you? How can you know about us and Stiles’ _essence_? They? They who?"

"You don’t know very much do you, Derek?"

Derek had to halt his ire and annoyance at the Sheriff’s tone to choke out the only word on his tongue. "Fey."

"That would be the right word."

"Then, yes, they came for him. It was Stiles’ Lacrosse Coach. He has been poisoning Stiles. You haven’t noticed." Derek had been keeping quiet for a while now on how angered he was that Stiles’ own father had not been around long enough to notice his own son wasting away. He had been there to protect everyone in this town, but not taken the time to protect what was at home. It was slightly satisfying that he was finally able to show some of his frustration and animosity towards the Sheriff.

"No, I haven’t been very aware, have I?" He sighed as he again began petting Stiles’ hair. "How do you know it was the Coach?"

"We chased him through the woods after Stiles had…I…we thought he had died and…" Scott had to stop to clear his throat, continuing, "he, the Coach, laughed at our grief, but we caught him. He waxed poetic some super creepy territorial bullshit, and also gloated about his supposed victory of getting to Stiles, making him turn into something _more_."

"He didn’t specify what; didn’t seem to know himself. Only that he was sure Stiles would turn into something grand, special. Then, he was somehow able to go from a man in front of us to a swarm of insects." Derek watched as the Sheriff didn’t look all that surprised by what they had told him.

"I see."

"I think it’s about time for you to be talking." Derek looked down at the Sheriff sternly.

"Stiles is special. His mother and I have put a giant burden on him. We couldn’t help it; we loved each other too much. We couldn’t not be together, and it’s going to change his whole world." He looked up into Derek’s eyes with a haunted expression deep within them.

"You see me as human, but I am far from it. You were too young when your family died, so you had yet to learn of the varying classes of supernatural within our domain." He chuckled slightly as his eyes flooded with moisture, "You know, it’s funny that he would fall in with your crowd. Werewolves. I first saw his mother on a full moon in the forest by a waterfall. Usually, that was the only time her clan could choose to let their selves be seen. Some kind of law had been set as precedence for safety for their kind, the Moon Fairy. She was ethereal in the moonlight, and when she looked at me her eyes shone like fireflies. Sometimes, when I look into Stiles’ eyes I see a glimpse of that."

Scott asked the immediate thing that came to Derek’s mind. "Why were you able to see her, or why did she let you see her?"

"Curiosity, maybe? We always had this…connection. In any case, she shouldn’t have shown herself to me, but when she did, after that we were inseparable. Every full moon we spent it together." The Sheriff smiled softly, and then frowned. "She was a pure bred fey, pretty much royalty. It was forbidden for her to mate outside of her clan, so we ran. Ran to the human world, to hide, to pretend; as long as we were with each other we didn’t care. And after a while, the pretending helped to neutralize some of our magic to the point that our dormant human ancestors’ aliments could affect us." _Ah, he’s talking about the "cancer"._

"You…the Coach said that he’d tried turning some else before, but had failed. He was talking about your wife. He killed her, not cancer, and certainly not because she was becoming human."

The Sheriff’s eyes alit with fire, veins turning a vibrant red under his skin as a haze sprung around him. Eyes then taking on an onyx-like sheen with white pupils. As an Alpha, even Derek could admit it was terrifying.

"You need to calm yourself, sir. You’re not going to be of any help if you are in this mindset. Trust me, I’ve lived through something similar."

Derek squatted down on the other side of Stiles. He reached out and took the Sheriff’s hand, and as he touched him the veins shimmered back to normal and his furious tears waned, eyes normalizing.

"Yeah, okay."

"So, Mr. S, you never did mention what kind of fey you are or what Stiles is going to turn into."

"Well, Stiles never showed any markers of being anything other than human, so we never said anything about it to him. What he might become? Well, I’m hoping he’ll take after his mother, the pure hearted and gentle type of fey, but if the Coach was so convinced that he was going to be something more than a harmless fey, my bet is that he is going to be a hybrid."

"Okay, but a hybrid of what? What are **you**?"

"Oh, well, my kind is a rarity among fey, but you’ve probably heard of our better known sister coven, Succubae. I’m a Incubus."

* * *

 

**Stiles POV:**

After the first five minutes of staring and majorly freaking out at his body lying on the ground, while he floated above said body cellophane style, Stiles kind of figured somebody would eventually come by and find him sooner or later to fix whatever the hell had gone wrong. _Something always goes wrong._ At least he didn’t seem to have his ADHD acting up in this vaporous state to worsen his situation. He also felt pretty damn good.

This was the first time, in a long time, he hadn’t felt weighted down or in pain from the severe headaches or from the outstanding clumsiness that caused him to fall all the damn time.

"Fuck it. While I’m stuck like this I should be allowed to have a little fun. I think I deserve it. Now, who could I possibly sneak up on in the shower." _Naked goodness. Yep, unquestionably feeling much better if awesome sex drive seems to have hummed back to life._

Hoping this would work, he closed his eyes and imagined where he wanted to be, and by the time he had reopened them, he was there.

* * *

 

**Lydia POV:**

Lydia walked into the room that held Erica, Isaac, and Boyd playing poker. Allison had been called back to her house by her father a while ago, something about polishing weapons.

"I’m starting to get worried. I tried calling Stiles five times for the past thirty minutes with no answer, and Scott should have checked in by now."

"Have you tried Derek?" Isaac huffed exasperatedly looking at the measly stack of chips he had left.

"He wasn’t scheduled to watch over Stiles tonight, Isaac."

"Yeah, but whether he is scheduled or not, Derek’s usually there anyway."

Erica agreed. "Big Bad’s got a hard on for our freckly friend, but won’t do anything about it, except pulling his creeper routine."

"God, Erica, you are so fucking crude." That did not stop Lydia from silently concurring with her statement, though.

"I really think he loves him." Isaac sighed dreamily after saying that. Boyd huffed his agreement, trying not to be caught looking at Isaac’s cards.

"Whatever, I’m calling him." Just as she was about to hit send, her phone started ringing. It was Derek.

Answering she said, "Good timing. I was just trying to reach you. Are you with Stiles? I can’t reach him, and it’s way past when he or Scott should have checked in." Lydia thought she heard a slight whining noise coming from Derek as she had mentioned Stiles’ name.

"Lydia, I need you to do some research for me, find out any and everything you can on Incubuses."

"Incubuses? Why would…do we have one in the territory? ‘Cause if we do, I can tell you one thing I know already about incubuses, we’ll need birth control. Condoms, Derek, lots of condoms."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Music Playlist: “Frequency” – Dawn Richard, “High For This” – The Weeknd, “Ladybird” – Baby Fox

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Music: "Slow" - Grouplove, "Hanging On" - Active Child, "Skin" - Zola Jesus, "Won't You Stay" - Indivision & Livewire


End file.
